The Three of Us
by Miss-Murdered
Summary: An ongoing series of short drabbles exploring the dynamics and complexity of the 1x2x3 relationship.
1. Sleep

Disclaimer: Don't own, never will

Pairings: 1x2x3 but all combinations of that in pairings as well as in a threesome context.

Warnings: m/m sex of varying degrees of smuttiness, two dudes, three dudes, masturbation, voyeurism as well as angst, sap and bad language

A/N: This is an ongoing series of short drabbles that is my attempt to explore how the 1x2x3 relationship would work. I will update semi–regularly with three chapters at a time told from Duo, Trowa and then Heero's perspectives. Some will be feelsy/angsty, some will be porny, and some will be sappy.

They have no chronology or order apart from the fact it is set post–EW.

Beta'd by ELLE

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**Sleep**

Heero was laid on his back, his breathing level and even, the warmth of his skin against Duo's cheek as he had found a comfortable spot on his chest where he could listen to rhythmic beating of his heart.

He breathed softly into Heero's skin, smelling dried sweat and a smell that he couldn't define but was uniquely Heero. It was as though he smelt of gunpowder, the residue of explosives, even though it was impossible, years having passed since the last time he handled explosives.

Duo shifted and heard a soft grunt behind him. His movement had not woken Heero, their legs tangled together, but it had obviously disturbed Trowa pressed against his back, his long lean body spooning him, an arm thrown over his waist and that hand resting on Heero's abs.

The feel of hot breath was against the back of his neck, Trowa's lips there and Duo's braid was over his shoulder, resting between himself and Heero.

He felt Trowa move a little against him and then relax, his chest against Duo's back, warm, and it amused him how that arm was around both of them, a sort of protective thing that Duo mocked him for though it was actually a very endearing trait.

Duo knew people disapproved – Relena, Quatre, hell even Commander Une disliked the arrangement from the beginning as it had compromised three Preventer agents emotionally and their relationship had taken Duo and Heero out of the field – but Duo had never really cared what people thought of him. And fuck, he wasn't going to start now.

Sleeping between them, it reminded him of safety in numbers, the shelter of warehouses and abandoned buildings on L2 and between two bodies, two sets of body heat and two people he loved, Duo felt safe, secure, wanted. All the things he ever needed.

He sighed, quiet, content and tried to fall back to sleep.

"Love you guys," he whispered.

Neither Heero or Trowa were awake enough to hear but it didn't matter as Duo guessed, they both knew that.


	2. Scars

**Scars**

Trowa mouthed down Duo's spine, his lips against each ridge, each bump, tasting skin, his lazy movement stopped at the line of boxer shorts, then travelling back up his body, licking gently at the skin until he was at the juncture of his shoulder and neck. Duo's back was covered in scars, as was his, as was Heero's. Puckers of marred flesh, thin lines of white, healed but never quite disappearing, a road-map of their lives.

It was 5.30 am. Half-light filtered through the pale curtains, morning soon and Duo was making small noises in his half asleep state, encouraging Trowa. His hips moved automatically, seeking out friction against Heero's side, and Trowa couldn't help the small smile against pale skin, as he slid his fingers down Duo's chest, continuing open-mouthed kisses at his neck and shoulder blades as he ghosted his fingertips over abs, nipples.

He felt all those scars, ones from OZ torture, ones from his childhood, ones from debris in a Gundam cockpit and as his hand reached lower. Duo's head moved, looking back over his shoulder and then he turned, meeting Trowa's lips, their tongues sliding, hips moving against each other, grinding, hands seeking out firm muscles encased in damaged skin.

Trowa knew they needed to move on, needed to be moving in tandem, fully naked and hot and hard. He released Duo's lips and he heard a soft chuckle from the other side of the bed and lifted his head to look over Duo's shoulder to see Heero watching, eyes deep and dark with lust.

"How long have you been awake?" Trowa asked.

"Since you started."

Duo shifted in between them, his hand grabbing Heero's hair and pulling him close for a kiss that Trowa could only watch, feeling his own desire heighten.

"You wanna join in?" Duo's voice was a whisper against Heero's lips.

Heero shook his head. "Let me watch."

He did – watched them, watched Trowa worship every inch of Duo's scarred skin, watched as they moved slick against each other, watched as they came, and in aftermath, Trowa ran his lips over Heero's chest – tracing his scars as two sets of hands explored his own.


	3. Rainfall

**Rainfall**

The rainfall was splattering against the windows and when Heero first woke he thought it was automatic machine gun fire, his senses making him reach for a weapon and then pausing as he felt the warmth of a body pressed against him. He frowned, looking to see Trowa sprawled across the bed, his long limbs taking over a lot of the space. The space that Duo must've vacated.

Heero left the bed, watching briefly as Trowa spread out further, mildly amused by that. Yeah, he was quite a bit taller than either he or Duo but still, he didn't need_ that_ much space.

He padded out of the room in search of Duo, checking the spare bedroom where the bed was still as it was – unruffled, undisturbed before checking bathroom, living room and kitchen. On finding him in none of those places, he walked to the door of their home and tried the handle to see it was unlocked.

They never left anything unlocked. They had extreme paranoia – justified as once a document had been released by an ex-OZ officer with a grudge within Preventer which revealed their names, ages, and in which area they lived. It was no more specific than that but Heero figured someone determined enough track them down. Anger fuelled relatives of people that had died at the hands of their Gundams.

Duo was sitting on the stoop, dressed in boxers and one of Trowa's hoodies – too big for him, making him appear smaller. Duo had a habit of stealing their clothes and Heero liked it – finding that a t-shirt with his lingering scent was oddly comforting.

He was smoking and he didn't hide it, neither was he concerned about the rain soaking him entirely. Heero stepped out into the rain, dressed only in shorts, his body barely feeling the temperature change. Sometimes he hated what had been done to him – those things he didn't feel. He didn't need to seek warmth in blankets like Duo and Trowa did, wrapping themselves up in them and each other and that made him feel a little sad – left out at times.

Heero moved to sit beside him on the wet concrete and he didn't say anything as he never needed to with Duo. Instead, Duo just slid into his arms, as naturally as breathing, and Heero rested his head on top of his wet hair – smelling him and cigarettes and the fresh clean smell of a spring storm.

Duo was his first. There was nothing he could do to deny the feelings he had for him – complete love that made him sometimes wish he'd been enough for him. But alone, just them, they had been volatile and violent and incompatible. They needed Trowa to balance. To soothe. His calm voice. His sharp eyes. His slow, sensual passion in counterpoint to their fiery lust.

"You done?" Heero asked quietly.

Heero didn't ask a multitude of questions – he didn't need to know why Duo was out in the rain or why he was smoking as he knew every reason. And they didn't need to go over them again. Picking over old wounds.

"Yeah," he said, taking a last drag of the cigarette and putting it out on the wet floor.

Heero gently kissed the top of his head and they went back inside to hear the whistle of boiling water. Trowa was standing in the kitchen, half asleep it seemed, making tea with whiskey and honey and Heero went over to him as Duo left to dry his skin and change his clothes.

"He okay?"

Heero nodded. "He always is."

Their lips met, unhurried, and though Duo was his first, Trowa was his second, and was just as important to him.


End file.
